


when the sunlight beckons

by aeneous



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mutual Pining, side renhyuck, smooth mf jaem + soft baby jeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 10:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20241619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeneous/pseuds/aeneous
Summary: Cool cool cool.Jeno has just walked into a murderer’s apartment. That’s probably the catch with Jaemin. He brings people back to his apartment and he stabs them to death with his Garfield scissors. You’d think the possibility that your crush has just invited you to his home to murder you would be a serious turn off, but instead Jeno’s just kind of triumphant. So Na Jaemin is not perfect after all!(alternatively: jeno is sexiled, renjun and donghyuck are the Worst and jaemin, in process of being a good citizen, gets a lot more than he bargained for.)





	when the sunlight beckons

Today is a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. 

In fact, if Jeno was any more melodrama inclined, he would probably say it was the worst day of his nineteen years of life. First, he woke up late because his alarm didn’t go off. He later found it was because he left his phone on Do Not Disturb after Donghyuck had been spamming the group chat with updates about the new dance freshman (_OVERGROWN BABY ALERT! [16 images attached]_) while he was trying to get through Chapter 17 of his mechanics reading. Then, while trying untangle himself from the blanket burrito he’d wrapped himself in, he stubbed his toe hard against his stack of literature textbooks and spent another 2 minutes desiring death for himself and whoever on the stupid school board thought it was necessary for engineering students to know anything about 20th century English poetry.

It took another 5 minutes of despondent moaning on the ground until Renjun came in and physically stopped him from throwing _Catcher in the Rye_ out of the window of their fifth floor apartment, thus effectively ending his plans to drop out from university and become an ice trucker.

After the brief and quickly rebuffed contemplation of career change, Jeno had already lost another ten minutes and scrambled to leave the house, nearly forgetting both his phone and house keys. He missed the bus by barely a second and was then forced to run to school in an unexpected downpour without an umbrella, leaving him both soaked to the bone and horrendously late for his 9am lecture. After sitting through three hours of quantum mechanics with damp socks, the misery of the day only continued. 

In his rush, Jeno had forgotten the textbook for his afternoon class and had to call Doyoung, his brother, who in exchange guilted a promise from Jeno to have lunch together sometime soon. To top it all off, he had to stay late on the only day this week he had an early shift because his stupid coworker who had a stupid girlfriend who he was in love with decided to spontaneously take her on a date and balantly disregarded the _CALL IN ABSENCES 48 HOURS IN ADVANCE_ sign taped to the staffroom door. 

In short, Jeno hates love, hates J.D. Salinger, hates the weather forecast, and all he wants to do is order takeout, curl up in his bed and play Pokemon by himself to drown out the misery.

Huang Renjun is Jeno’s best friend and Jeno is fully aware that not only does he owe his survival to this day to Renjun, he is also forever indebted to him in a multitude of ways (from stopping Jeno from inhaling sand in 1st grade to saving his ass on his senior oral final in 12th). Renjun, apart from being the prickliest cactus on earth and a nightmare to deal with during exam season, is generally a good best friend. Any other day of the year, Jeno would be singing Renjun’s praises to the high heavens and wishing him all the happiness and good fortune in the world. But today, he wishes that Renjun had erectile dysfunction. Or at least that Renjun’s brazen and aggressive personality wasn’t such a magnet for other shameless personalities.

Namely, one Lee Donghyuck, who is currently very naked and very between Renjun’s legs.

Jeno could have gone his whole life without knowing what Renjun’s cockblocked face looks like.

“What the fuck, Renjun!” Jeno yells, trying to both cover his virgin eyes and throw the nearest item to cover them up, which happens to be his own shirt. Guess he’s never wearing that again. "Couldn't you have given a guy a warning!"

“I did, dumbass,” Renjun says flippantly, not seeming to care that he has his dick out in front of Jeno. There’s some shuffling, and then Donghyuck lets out a very suspicious noise that Jeno desperately wishes could be erased from his memory. “I texted you _ Hyuck is over _ literally two hours ago.”

“You said he was over, you didn’t say it was a dick appointment! That’s deliberate misinformation,” Jeno near shrieks, rifling blindly through their apartment drawers.

“Oh my god, Lee Jeno, you’re so stupid, just take off your glasses. That’s a auto-pixelator right there.” That’s Donghyuck’s voice now, but much more hoarse than Jeno’s used to hearing, probably because — nevermind. Jeno _ really _ doesn’t want to think about it.

“Can’t,” Jeno says, fumbling through the drawer for his 3DS. “I won’t let you sexile me without my game, you demon.” Luckily, he actually does find it after about half a minute of searching and he stumbles hastily toward the general vicinity of the door, thankful when he reaches the doorknob.

“Don’t come back tonight, bye Jeno, love you!” A pair of pink fluffy earmuffs hit the back of Jeno’s head, and Jeno scoops them up before running out of the door. 

And so this is how Jeno ends up sitting outside the door of his own apartment at 10:30pm, wearing earmuffs and playing Pokemon X on his 3DS. He wishes he could listen to the soothing jazzy music of Route 3 right about now, but he doesn’t want to risk overhearing something that he can’t ever erase from his mind.

“I only have you now, Seol,” Jeno informs his Espeon as he feeds her a sweet poffin. “My best friend is a horny, homophobic traitor.” Tiny little hearts pop up around Espeon’s sprite and that cheers Jeno up, at least.

He runs through the 6th gym, ignoring all the weird stares he gets from the students filtering into the dorms either drunk or barely awake from consecutive all-nighters. The hard floor is starting to hurt by the time he gets close to the Gym Leader, and he wonders if he should call his brother just so he can have somewhere to crash for the night, but then decides against it. He doesn’t want to get nagged about how Renjun actually has a boyfriend with whom he can sexile Jeno with, and Jeno is still miserably single. He clicks FIGHT with his stylus instead. Maybe killing some of the random trainers will make him feel better, even if it’s not in the warmth of his comforter right now.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Jeno jumps up so fast he slams his head on the doorknob. His vision immediately goes blurry, his hands flying up to ease the pain, muttering _ ow ow ow _as he tries not to lose all of his barely remaining dignity and face plant on the carpet in front of whichever poor soul stumbled upon his pathetic existence.

Once the spinning blots in his vision clear, Na Jaemin’s beautiful, perfect, awful face stares back at him.

Even Jeno, whose friend group that consists only of Renjun and Donghyuck (though that’s really on thin fucking ice right now) and maybe the nice lunch lady who occasionally gives him an extra serving of tteokbokki, knows who Na Jaemin is. 

That’s just because Na Jaemin is infamous around campus. All kinds of wild speculations about him circulate through the rumour mill, from him getting 16 confessions in one day, to being part of the Japanese mafia and _ did you hear that he murdered my tutor’s sister’s boyfriend’s hairdresser? _Mostly though, he’s notorious for being the campus sweetheart, one of the people everyone and their mothers all genuinely adore. Jeno has heard lots and lots of girls giggle and whisper about spotting him volunteer at the local soup kitchen or animal shelter or see him open doors and carry groceries for the elderly, and those same girls’ boyfriends who grumble about the impossible standard Jaemin sets for all men. 

Jeno’s sole actual interaction with Jaemin himself, other than staring at the back of his head in the mandatory sociology prerequisite they share, happened in the library during freshman year mid-term exams. He had stumbled into another student by accident, who cursed at him quite brutally. Jeno, barely conscious and not at all accustomed to what the seniors dubbed as ‘exam season aggression’, was startled into dropping all of his textbooks on the floor. In the midst of all the brain dead students writing their term papers, Jaemin was the only one to help him pick them up and put them back into his bag. Jeno still remembers that interaction to this day, because Jaemin had smiled and wished him a good day in a voice so sincere that it had kept Jeno warm the entire week.

Jeno’s knees go weak again. Either luckily, or unluckily, Jaemin’s arm shoots out, steadying him immediately. Lucky: Jeno manages not to smash his face against the floor and break what Renjun calls his only redeemable features. Unlucky: his heart is beating so fast that he thinks he’s about to die anyways. 

Great. Now Na Jaemin, Jeno’s lowkey sort of crush and most perfect human being alive, has seen him sitting on the floor of the dorm hallway, playing Pokémon alone like a loser. _ God, if you exist and have any mercy on my human soul please send an asteroid to wipe me out right now, _ Jeno thinks, really hard. 

He waits for ten seconds.

God is not on his side today. 

Jaemin is still staring at him expectantly.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Jeno finally mumbles, realising that he has spent the past thirty seconds spacing out and wishing for death all the while Jaemin was still holding him up from an imminent meeting between his face and the floor.

He’s used to being nervous and tongue tied around others, especially strangers and beautiful people — two criteria of which Jaemin is both both — but he manages to get the words out without stumbling much and tries not to feel too proud about it. Wow. _Baby’s first conversation with the unattainable love of his life, _he imagines Donghyuck cooing at him. 

(_Shut up, Donghyuck, _ Jeno thinks. _ Go back to having sex with my traitor best friend. _

_ I’m literally in your head, Jeno, _ Donghyuck snipes right back. Jeno thinks it’s a terrible testament to exactly how much time he spends with them that he can literally imagine the exact shit-eating grin Donghyuck would have saying it_. I’m a figment of your imagination, dumbass. Unless you’re imagining me and Renjun having sex in your head — which, I get it, I know we’re hot — is still gross. _

_ I’ve seen Renjun shovel dirt in his mouth! _ Jeno yells back. _ Why in god’s name would I ever imagine the guy who I’ve literally seen eat crayons having sex!!!_)

Jeno is startled out of the entire hallucinatory argument he’s having with the imaginary Donghyuck in his head when he realises that Jaemin has started talking to him again.

“What are you doing out here, Jeno?” Jeno’s cheeks are flaming. He doesn’t think he’s ever been as warm in his life than he has right now, with Jaemin’s hand on his arm. 

“I’m,” Jeno hesitates for a second. Should he really attempt a cooler cover-up to salvage this interaction or would it be futile? “My best friend has his boyfriend over and basically I’m sexiled.” He ends up settling on the truth, which comes out about as lame and sad as it sounds in his head. 

Jeno’s really beyond the point of caring, now — he doesn’t really think there’ll be anything to redeem him from the whatever bottom-tier status he has in Jaemin’s eyes.

“And you’re sitting out here all alone? What are you going to do for the night?” Jaemin’s voice is so nice, so gentle, even when he’s just witnessed Jeno make an absolute fool of himself. Jeno laughs nervously. 

“Haha, they probably won’t last long anyways, it’s okay, I can wait out here.” 

Did he just make a joke about his best friend’s libido to a complete stranger? Yes, but Jeno sort of thinks he deserves it after being so thoroughly backstabbed and left to die (read as: embarrass himself in front of Jaemin). Jeno would never do this to Renjun, he’s allowed to be a little bitter about it.

To his surprise, Jaemin actually laughs, loud and genuine. Jeno doesn’t actually think it was that funny, but Jaemin’s laugh is so warm that it immediately makes all of Jeno’s insides feel squishy and malleable like putty. Jeno can’t help but smile, slow and hesitant. _ Point one for Jeno, _he marks on the mental score board in his head; he’s on track to recovering from the several hundred points he presumably lost from their previous sixty seconds of interaction. Still a win though, and Jeno will take all of the ones he gets. 

“Jeno, just come home with me,” Jaemin says all of a sudden, taking Jeno’s hands in both of his. Jeno tries not to hyperventilate too loudly when he does. “I mean, not in a creepy way,” he quickly amends. “Just for tonight, I don’t want you to have to sit outside alone.” He even pulls out the wide puppy eyes, bottom lip pushing out in a pout when Jeno immediately opens his mouth to resist him.

“No, no, no, I couldn’t possibly intrude on you.” Jeno does not even know to start on his long list of excuses on why that is a very very very bad idea. 

Firstly, he’s already irrevocably in love with Jaemin, just from the tiny details he procures from their minimal interactions and staring at the back of his head for 3 hours every Thursday morning. Any further interaction with him could only be a disaster for his future dating prospects, because everyone else will pale next to the unachievable standards set by Jaemin. And then Jeno will have to resign to being alone with his 63 cats for the rest of his life. It’s like that meme. 

(anyone: h-  
jeno: but are you na jaemin? i thought not)

More importantly than that, though, Jeno may actually die. (_For realz, _Donghyuck’s voice adds unnecessarily.) 

He’s a poor college student! He doesn’t have the healthcare benefits to be going to the hospital every single time his poor weak heart wants to quit whenever Jaemin does anything within a 5m radius of him! It’s already working overtime with Jaemin sitting in front of him in sociology, Jeno can’t take the chance and go to his apartment and risk the possibility of seeing a domestic Jaemin in his comfortable space with his hair all soft and fluffy and — 

_ No_. Jeno firmly stops that thought in its place — he will cut his losses just for one night if it means he can not have _ death by Na Jaemin’s face _ on his obituary. And contrary to popular belief (popular belief being the texts he sends to Donghyuck and Renjun), he does actually want to live to see 25 or whatever age it is most people die off at. There’s still so many things to do, places to see, cats to pet. Jeno can’t die at 19 years old.

“if it convinces you, I make a really good soy sauce egg fried rice.” Jaemin’s voice interrupts Jeno’s mental monologue again. _ Fuck. _ Jeno feels fainter and fainter. His heart decides this is a great time to do an entire Olympic routine in his chest. _ He can cook too. _

Jaemin must take Jeno’s_ I’m literally about to die _ face as more resistance, because he plays up the cuteness now, fluttering his eyelashes in a comical way that is supposed to make Jeno laugh but instead makes Jeno really, really flustered. He’s not used to have a cute boy trying to get him to come home with him, even if it is in a completely innocuous context.

“C’mon, Jeno,” Jaemin’s nudging him again, trying to get Jeno to look at him. “I have pillows and blankets and a heater.” 

Jeno falters, another denial waiting at his lips. While the idea of a warm apartment and soy sauce fried rice is sorely tempting, his conscience wins over eventually — he can hardly bear the thought of being a nuisance to Jaemin when he’s already embarrassed himself this much. He’s just about to refuse again when Jaemin, apparently no longer interested in waiting for his answer, slides down the door frame to sit next to Jeno.

“Well, if you won’t come home with me,” Jaemin says, stretching his legs out, seemingly heedless of his very expensive looking peacoat touching the dirty floor. “I’ll just sit out here with you, then.” 

“No! Wait, don’t, don’t,” Jeno stammers, pulling Jaemin up so urgently he forgets about personal space boundaries. “I’ll come, I’ll come, no fried rice bribery needed.” When he realises that he’s still holding Jaemin’s hand, he drops it like he’s been burned. 

But it’s worth it: all of the hesitance Jeno was holding onto ebbs away when Jaemin beams him like Jeno has just given him the world or told him he won the lottery, his eyes crinkling beautifully at the corners and heart shaped lips curling up the loveliest smile that Jeno has ever seen. How could any decision he makes be wrong if it makes Jaemin smile like that?

Jaemin brushes his coat off and holds out one hand expectantly, waiting for Jeno to take it. “Just to make sure you won’t run away from me,” he winks. Jeno’s entire face burns but he lets Jaemin interlace their fingers and swing their arms together. Jaemin’s palm is warm and soft and his fingers slot perfectly in the spaces between Jeno’s and Jeno can’t help but think _why the fuck is everything about him so perfect and why am I inexplicably attracted to all of it? _

“Come on,” Jaemin chirps, tugging Jeno along to the stairwell. He doesn’t seem to mind how sweaty Jeno’s hand is, only holding it tighter when Jeno falls behind. “I’ll take you to my apartment.” 

The walk to Jaemin’s apartment is a few minutes east of the campus courtyard. Jaemin is a great conversationalist, asking after Jeno’s classes and looking genuinely interested (or doing a great job pretending) when Jeno tells him about them. He even laughs at the few lame jokes that Jeno attempts to make, which only slightly eases Jeno’s racing heartbeat. Jeno learns a few more things too: that Jaemin is a psychology major (“I pick apart your brain, baby.” “That’s so gross, I can’t believe you just said that.”), his order is black coffee with six shots of espresso (“Do you even still _ have _ tastebuds?”), and that Jaemin actually does volunteer for the animal shelter ("Wednesdays and Fridays, baby."). Jaemin doesn’t drop Jeno’s hand for the whole walk, not even when he gets to the door and has to fumble around his pocket one handed for his keys.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Jeno pauses as Jaemin is turning the lock in the door. His heartbeat has eased enough that he doesn’t feel quite so dizzy as he did before when Jaemin turns his million-watt smile on him, but he’s still slightly tongue tied when he asks, “You... don’t live that close, right? What were you doing over at the campus buildings?’

Jaemin laughs, and for the first time, there’s a touch of uneasiness in it that Jeno isn’t used to hearing. “Ah, nothing really, don’t worry! Just, you know, came over to drop something off for my friend.” There’s something off with his tone, but Jeno doesn’t dwell on it for long, too distracted by Jaemin ushering him inside to press further. 

Jaemin’s apartment is neat and pretty, at first glance. Everything about it is warm, from the pale yellow curtains to the stack of blankets on the couch to the glass vase full of wild daisies. There’s minimal decor but it’s filled with lots of personal touches all around, including many, many academic certificates, a world map with a few coloured pins on it, and several framed photos of Jaemin and a tall boy with mousy hair and full cheeks. Jeno’s no interior designer, but even he would say the warm atmosphere of the room is quite effectively ruined by very large and very hastily cleaned up red stain in the middle of the floor and the several pairs of similarly stained scissors littered on the tables around it. Jeno’s eyes immediately zoom in on the ones with Garfield on them. 

_ Cool cool cool. _Jeno has just walked into a murderer’s apartment. That’s probably the catch with Jaemin. He brings people back to his apartment and he stabs them to death with his Garfield scissors. You’d think the possibility that your crush has just invited you to his home to murder you would be a serious turn off, but instead Jeno’s just kind of triumphant. So Na Jaemin is not perfect after all! He’s a serial killer! Jeno’s just in the middle of composing the headline for the news article about his untimely death (Sexiled College Boy Gets Stabbed to Death By Local Sweetheart) when the lights flick on.

“Ah, sorry,” Jaemin comes from behind, smiling sheepishly. “It’s a bit unnerving in the dark, right? Don’t worry, it’s just red box dye. I was helping my friend dye and trim his hair earlier and it made a huge mess that I didn’t get a chance to clean up yet.”

“Thank god,” Jeno says. Thankfully his brain-to-mouth filter kicks in and he doesn’t accidentally say what he thinks in his head, which is _ cool I didn’t really want to die but I would totally let you stab me. _With the lights on though, he sees the boxes of red hair dye next to the scissors. “I’ve never really dyed my hair before, but my best friend has.” 

“Really?” Jaemin’s voice is muffled as he puts their shoes and hangs their coats off in the closet. “I’ve only done it once, myself.” He steps back out just in his soft cashmere sweater now, and makes a nebulous gesture towards his light blonde hair. “I think you’d be really cute if you did.”

Jeno can’t find it in him to formulate a response to Jaemin calling him cute other than _ no u_, so he sort of just sputters and waves his hands in a vaguely dissenting gesture for about 15 seconds until Jaemin giggles and tells him to sit at the kitchen counter.

“I promised you soy sauce fried rice, Lee Jeno,” Jaemin says, rolling up his sleeves. Jeno’s throat goes very, _ very _ dry. “Just make yourself at home, it won’t take long.”

“Cool, is it okay if I, uh-” Jeno makes a vague gesture to a door he thinks to be the bathroom. “Um, bathroom?” He feels like his heart is going to erupt if he spends another moment in Jaemin’s presence, and he really, really wishes that Jaemin would just put his sleeves back down.

“First door on the left,” Jaemin says, then frowns at Jeno. “Jeno, you’re really red, are you o—” 

The door slams shut.

“Pick up pick up pick up pick up,” Jeno whispers like a chant, cradling the phone close to his ear.

“What the fuck do you want, Jeno,” Renjun picks up on the third ring, and he sounds way too annoyed for someone who (presumably) just got laid.

“Hi I’m at Na Jaemin’s apartment right now and his bathroom smells like flowers he might be a serial killer and he’s really cute so please come pick me up right now or I might just die,” Jeno says all in one breath. 

There’s some rustling on Renjun’s end, and then Jeno hears Renjun mumble something too far from the microphone to catch clearly except for the words _ so he did actually do it_. Just as Jeno is about to ask for an elaboration, Renjun heaves a deliberately noisy sigh into the microphone. “You’re not going to die, Jeno. Jaemin is a nice person, he’s not a serial killer,” he speaks as slowly as he would if he were talking to a toddler.

“You don’t know that! Are you going to take that risk and send your best friend to his death now? I thought we had something, Renjun. I thought our friendship meant something to you,” Jeno hisses. “First, you sexile me – I still haven’t forgiven you for that, by the way – and now you literally want me dead.”

There’s a faint_ babe, what’s going on? _ In the background and Jeno hears Renjun say _ Jeno’s being dramatic again_, can practically hear the eyeroll in Renjun’s voice as he says it.

“I am not, I might actually _ die_!”

“I promise to throw you a very good funeral party,” Renjun says tonelessly. There’s some more shuffling, and then presumably the phone being passed off to Donghyuck.

“Donghyuck–” Jeno starts to whine. Donghyuck is nice to him. Donghyuck wouldn’t hang up on him like Renjun would. In fact, Donghyuck is Jeno’s new best—

“Jeno, baby, go get some dick,” Donghyuck says sweetly, then the line goes dead.

Jeno curses. He should have known from the moment Donghyuck got into their lives that they would be bad influences on each other. Two demon inclined personalities didn’t cancel each other out, they just multiplied. He doesn’t bother dialling again, but he does switch over to the text app instead to let out some of his frustrations.

**jeno **[11:07pm]  
RENJUN!!!!!  
DONGHYUCK!!!!  
I KNOW U GUYS ARE THERE  
STOP IGNORING ME!!!  
HUANG RENJUN   
LEE DONGHYUCK  
ANSWER ME TT  
FKLDJER  
IM ABOUT TO DIE TTT

**jeno **[11:09pm]  
Hlsdkl;s I HATE YOU GUYS SO MUCH RIGHTTT NOW  
IHATE U  
FUCK U GUYS  
FAKE FRIENDS

**jeno **[11:14pm]  
i cant believe u would do this to me  
im so hurt  
cutting u both out of my will rn 

When Renjun shows no signs of replying, Jeno spitefully changes Renjun’s contact name from rice cake ♡ to fake best friend >:(. 

Whatever! Jeno can deal with it. Both of his best friends might be dirty backstabbers, but it’s cool! He’s cool. He takes a deep breath before he ducks around the corner to peek at the kitchen. Jaemin has now put on a very cute floral patterned apron and is bustling around the kitchen, singing quietly to himself as he works. 

_ Cool_. That’s fine. Jeno thinks, as he suppresses the urge to scream into his hands. He’s never liked guys who could cook and sing and pull off cutesy aprons without any shame.

Jeno is deeply tempted to go back inside the bathroom to calm his heart again or maybe just to throw himself out of the tiny window, but he forces himself to go back to the kitchen. So Jaemin is literally the cutest, most perfect human being to ever exist. No biggie. Not a big deal at all.

“Hi,” Jeno says awkwardly, then regrets it immediately when Jaemin turns around to beam at him. “Do you need any help?”

“No, it’s alright,” Jaemin says cheerfully. “You can just sit, it’s almost done! Or feel free to look around, if you like.” The kitchen smells nice now, all warm with the smell of freshly cooked rice and egg. 

Jeno opts to pick up one of the picture frames with a younger Jaemin in it. He has dark hair, and is wearing a wide brimmed sunhat and ray-ban shades. “Your brother?” He points to the young boy in Jaemin’s arms who is beaming at the camera.

“Mm, that’s Jisung,” Jaemin says. His eyes soften as soon as he talks about his brother, and he comes over to look at the photo Jeno’s holding. “He’s seventeen now. Oh, he’s really cute in this photo. He’s not as cute now, but he still has the same cheeks.” He pauses, biting down on his lip as he thinks. “He’ll be attending here, next year, too.”

Jeno hums quietly, setting the photo back down and instead wandering over to the wall of certificates that display academic distinctions with Jaemin’s name on them. “You have a lot of these too, wow.”

“I used to be a good student. It was a long time ago, though.” A beat of silence lapses, then Jaemin calls. “Jeno, come over, it’s ready.” He mixes the soy sauce and sesame oil into the fried rice, then pushes it towards Jeno. “How is it?” His eyes fix on Jeno as he eats a bite.

“Guess you weren’t lying,” Jeno tries to tease. “You’re a really good cook. Did you ever take classes?”

“I feel like you know too much about me, already,” Jaemin pouts a little, turning away from the stove to look back at Jeno. “Why won’t you tell me a little about yourself?”

“There’s nothing interesting about me compared to you,” Jeno says, slightly flustered by Jaemin’s intent gaze on him. He eats another spoonful of rice to hide his embarrassment. “Renjun tells me I’m the most boring person ever.”

“Tell me anyways,” Jaemin insists, wiping his hands on his apron. “C’mon, can’t you entertain me and tell me a little about the person I’m housing tonight?”

“Um, well, I have a brother too… he’s older though, he doesn’t attend here anymore, but he’s just as boring as I am. Oh! I do have three cats.”

“You have cats? Oh my gosh, show me.” Jaemin looks genuinely excited at the prospect, coming around to peer at Jeno’s phone.

Jeno pulls up his photo album titled _ ♥_babies_♥ _ and this - this is a topic that Jeno is more than delighted to open up about. It is way too easy for him to grow very excited about what he’s saying, getting enraptured into telling the backstory and context of every single photo in his phone. Before he knows it, he’s shown Jaemin over 200 photos of Seol, Nal and Bongshik. 

The realization that Jaemin had been patiently listening to him talk about his cats for 10 minutes straight dawns on him right when he’s in the middle of explaining how Seol had been clawing at her bed in photo number 211. Jeno suddenly claps a hand over his mouth, flush returning to his cheeks. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I’ve just spent like 15 minutes talking about my cats, this must be so boring for you.”

“No, no,” Jaemin says. He clasps both of Jeno’s quickly retracting hands, trapping them with his own. “Actually, I think it’s really cute. It’s the most you’ve said to me all night.” 

Jeno’s heart does three somersaults in his chest, and his breath hitches so loudly that he’s sure Jaemin heard it. “This is so embarrassing,” he mumbles. “I wish I were drunk right now.” He doesn’t mean for Jaemin to catch the last part but Jaemin does anyway, and he laughs.

“I could help with that.” He goes over to the fridge, rifling around for a moment before he pulls out two brightly coloured blue glass bottles that resemble ramune more than anything else. He offers one to Jeno, who hesitates.

“I shouldn’t,” Jeno backtracks. He gets loose lipped whenever he drinks, and he can’t imagine the disaster incoming if he lost his brain to mouth filter around Jaemin. 

“I’m joking, Jeno, there isn’t much alcohol in it,” Jaemin laughs. “Only about 2 percent, it mostly tastes like bubbly soda water. You don’t have to try it if you don’t want, though.” 

His hand is still extended. It is an invitation and a challenge, all at once, and it sends a thrill up Jeno’s spine.

Jeno picks up the bottle.

“I really didn’t know you were such a lightweight, Jeno,” Jaemin is holding Jeno up and helping him into… another room? Jeno doesn’t really know. All he can focus on is Jaemin’s warmth pressed to his side, and the tiny steps that Jaemin is forcing him to take.

“I love cats,” Jeno says forlornly as he’s unceremoniously deposited onto a bed. A set of sleepclothes hit his face when he tries to sit up, so Jeno just gives up. After a moment, he bats them away balefully. “I want to have one at our dorm so bad, but Renjun says we’ll get evicted.”

“You just spent 25 minutes crying about the stray cat that you saw 2 days ago, so I definitely believe you, Jeno.” Jaemin’s voice comes closer, until he’s sitting at the edge of the bed next to Jeno, who’s sprawled all over the sheets.

“Cats are cute,” Jeno mumbles, then he giggles, as if remembering something. He suddenly leans up and bops Jaemin’s nose with his finger. “You’re cute, too! You’re just like a cat!” 

“You think I’m cute, Jeno?” Jaemin asks lightly, but his eyes fix on Jeno’s like he’s anticipating the answer. Jeno doesn’t seem to notice. All of his limbs are heavy and his head is pleasantly buzzed, jumbled with thoughts of Jaemin’s eyes and hands and lips. _ Was Jaemin wearing that plaid shirt earlier? It looks so nice. _

“Of course!” Jeno cries out, completely oblivious to how Jaemin lights up. He rolls over, grinning up at Jaemin dazedly. “Everyone thinks you’re cute!”

Jaemin looks disappointed for a second, but Jeno continues on rambling, heedless of Jaemin’s expression. 

“You are so cute, Jaemin,” Jeno fumbles around for his words, gesticulating wildly to make his point. “Like when you do that cute nose scrunch thing in sociology when you don’t know what the professor has just said? It makes my heart do weird things, not only that you have such a nice face and perfect smile and cute cheeks and hands, you're just so pretty and I wish you’d stop it, I’m too poor to afford hospital bills if one day my heart actually decides it wants to break my rib cage around you,” he hiccups. He feels a little dizzy after waving his hands so much, and Jaemin’s face is close enough that Jeno could practically count each individual eyelash. 

“And it’s so fucking unfair, because then you had to have such a sweet and nice personality to go with it all, like, I’m such a mess and I was playing pokemon alone outside of my dorm and everyone else ignored me but you actually brought me back home, I just can’t believe you’re actually the nicest person ever, I’m so sad. You couldn’t have been a total douchebag? Or hated cats? Or had crippling toxic masculinity? Or some fatal flaw to balance out the natural order of the universe?” Jaemin’s eyes are so pretty from this angle, reflecting flecks of light from the bedside lamp, and Jeno can’t really tell if that’s why he’s suddenly overwhelmed with an urge to start crying again. 

“You… wanted me to be a douchebag?” Jaemin’s voice trails off, uncertain.

“No! That’s not the point! The point is, why did god have to make you so _ perfect_? Why did the deity of high above decide that not only did you have to be model-gorgeous, you also had to be a straight A student and genuine sweetheart and animal shelter volunteer, why did they do that—” Jeno hiccups again here, “—because you are so gorgeous and so unattainable and your very existence has set standards so high that I’m going to be single for the rest of my life.” 

“_God_, Jeno,” Jaemin whispers. His thumbs reach beneath Jeno’s eyes to wipe away the tears pooling there. “I really wish you weren’t drunk right now.” 

Jeno sniffles, “why?”

“So I could kiss the shit out of you.” 

“I wanna kiss,” Jeno perks up immediately, making grabby hands at Jaemin. His head is heavy but he fumbles around anyways, looking for Jaemin’s hand to hold on to. “Jaemin, Jaemin, _ Jaemin_.”

Jaemin’s finger presses to Jeno’s lips, who lets out a high whine that he would surely be embarrassed of if he wasn’t so drunk. “I really wanna kiss you too, baby,” the pet name makes all sorts of fluttery things happen in Jeno’s stomach, and he squirms. “but I don’t think I can kiss you right now.” 

“Why, why, why,” Jeno mumbles, as he makes a half hearted effort to bite at the fingers Jaemin has pressed to his mouth. He’s getting sleepy already, and Jaemin’s voice fades into a sort of pleasant white noise in the back of his head. He thinks Jaemin says something in return, but he can’t quite recall the exact words.

“Will you be there in the morning,” Jeno mumbles, already starting to drift off. He dimly remembers Jaemin changing his jeans as he nuzzles his face deeper into the pillows. “I want toast, and mm… milk and raspberries…”

“Go to sleep, Jeno,” Jaemin’s voice filters in slowly through the alcohol addled haze of his mind, soft and vague. It’s the last thing that Jeno hears.

Jeno wakes up in an unfamiliar bed with sunlight pouring in through sheer curtains. He’s dazed for a few minutes, blinking the sleepiness away and lazing in the warm sheets and soft mattress that smell like citrus and peaches and clean cotton. 

It takes another moment and the realization he’s not wearing his own clothes before all the events of last night crash into him all at once. Sharp humiliation washes over him like hot scalding water when each individual thing he said from last night resurfaces slowly from the from the deep pits of his repressed memory. All of memories are hazy and come back in jumbled into pieces, but Jeno remembers.

He remembers telling Jaemin he was cute, remembers whining about how pretty he was, and remembers when he asked for a kiss. He remembers telling Jaemin how much he liked him. 

Remembers Jaemin telling him to go to sleep.

Jeno wants to die. He needs to go home now and put in his transfer for another university so he never has to see Jaemin again. He rolls over as gingerly as he can without falling out and _ oh— _

Jaemin’s side of the bed is cold.

_ Of course_. Realization dawns like a shower of ice water. 

Jaemin is _ soft _ and he is kind and thoughtful and considerate, even when he’s rejecting someone. Jeno has seen him gently turn down confessions, has seen him wipe their tears when they’re crying and has seen him turn his face away when they told him, _please, please don’t look_. Jaemin wouldn’t stay and let Jeno face the burning humiliation of what happened last night. He’s a nice person, like that, and he would spare Jeno of that mortification and let Jeno find closure on his own. 

Still, Jeno’s eyes burn with tears as he changes his clothes as quickly as he can, fumbling around the nightstand for his glasses and phone so he can get out of there as soon as possible. He’s breathing harshly as he slips on his shoes, not even bothering with the laces as he turns the doorknob. He just wants to leave.

“Jeno?” Jeno jumps back from the doorway, frozen and half-dressed. There Jaemin is, wearing the same cashmere sweater as yesterday, his keys stuck in the lock. He looks startled to see Jeno standing there.

“Hi,” Jeno says, his voice coming out an octave higher than usual. He wants to get out of there before Jaemin stops him and sits him down and lets him down gently with his kind voice and kinder eyes. He doesn’t want to see the pity in Jaemin’s eyes when he sees that Jeno is on the verge of crying again. “So, I have to go to an early morning _claaa_-”

Jeno nearly jumps out of his skin when Jaemin closes the two strides between them and takes Jeno’s chin into his hands. “Are you crying, Jeno?” 

“What are you talking about,” Jeno chokes on something that’s between a laugh and a sob, avoiding Jaemin’s gaze at all costs. His vision is blurry and his voice steadily rises in pitch as he goes, “I’ve really got to go, Jaemin, so—” 

“Jeno, what’s happening?” Jaemin asks again, unfaltering even when tears begin to roll down Jeno’s cheeks freely. His expression is somewhere between concerned and confused. “Why are you crying?” Jeno freezes at the touch, and in quick succession, Jaemin seems to lose all of the gentle insistence that he had just a moment before, and his hand drops back to his own side.

It’s like watching a metamorphosis in reversal — Jaemin seems to curl in on himself like a wilting flower, stepping away from Jeno very carefully. “Did - did I do something wrong?” In a heartbeat he’s become a completely different person, deflated and vulnerable and hurt.

And then Jeno notices.

There are grocery bags by his feet, spilling full with boxes of raspberries and milk and bread, all the things that Jeno had told Jaemin about wanting to eat for breakfast last night, which must have meant that rather than running away, Jaemin wanted him to _stay_ — 

— and tears start to burn at the back of Jeno’s eyes again, but this time for a different reason. Guilt feels like an sinking anchor in his stomach, heavy.

“I’m sorry,” Jeno sniffs, then scrubs furiously at his eyes before he starts sobbing again. Jaemin is still standing a pace away from him, but he looks so lost and hurt that it makes everything in Jeno’s stomach twist uncomfortably again. “I misunderstood, I’m sorry— just, it’s silly, but I got scared, I woke up and you weren’t there, and I-I thought you might not have wanted me there anymore, and maybe you didn’t want to kiss me anymore, I thought you just left—” his voice breaks off, shatters. “I’m sorry.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence.

“I should have told you,” Jaemin says, quiet. But understanding seems to settle in his shoulders, and relief colours his voice as speaks. When Jeno stumbles forward, Jaemin gathers him up in his arms. “Fuck, I’m sorry, too, Jeno, I should have left you a note,” he whispers into Jeno’s hair, hands running up and down Jeno’s shaking shoulders as he cries. “I just, I’ve never done this before, and I got excited about it. I like you so much, I wanted to kiss you last night, but I didn’t want to do it while you were still drunk.”

Jeno’s entire body wracks with a sob and they stand there for a minute, Jeno trying to even his breathing and Jaemin holding him steady, dotting butterfly kisses that feel like snow against his forehead. Jeno inhales the scent of Jaemin’s sweater and it smells like citrus and peach blossoms and hope.

“Can I kiss you now?” Jeno asks. His voice comes out jagged, a little hoarse. Shy. The fingers that he hooks into Jaemin’s jeans are tentative, but Jaemin seems to enjoy it, if the way his lips curl into a cheshire cat smile is any indication. 

“I’d be pretty mad if you didn’t,” Jaemin says, so sweet that Jeno can’t see a reason he shouldn’t reach up and taste the sugar on his lips.

Jaemin kisses him tenderly at first, soft and lingering, sucking at Jeno’s bottom lip. Jeno makes a displeased noise in his throat when Jaemin pulls away for air, reels Jaemin back until he’s easing Jeno’s mouth open messily with his arms wrapped around his waist. It’s hard to help it, then, the slow first tinglings arousal that begin to form in his stomach. He can feel Jaemin’s, too, pressed into his hip. 

“Wait, Jeno,” Jaemin breathes between kisses. “Let me just, get the door,” Jeno whines but lets Jaemin go, just for a moment so he can slam the door shut.

Jaemin barely manages to drop the groceries on the floor before Jeno attaches himself to him again, kissing Jaemin hard. They’re a tangle of limbs as they stumble towards Jaemin’s bed, only separating when Jeno lands with a soft thump. It’s reminiscent of last night, but now all of Jaemin’s face is lit up by the sunlight, full and bright. He’s sure his face is still a bit pink and blotchy from crying, eyes still red-rimmed, but he can’t find it in himself to care when Jaemin frames his face with his hands and places a kiss right on the corner of his mouth. 

“My sweetheart,” Jaemin teases, softly. The reverence he says it with makes Jeno’s entire body all soft and syrupy, like he could melt right into the mattress. “Are you gonna cry for me again?” 

Jeno just whines breathily in response, too warm and safe in Jaemin’s embrace to feel embarrassed. He’s a little lightheaded when he presses himself closer to Jaemin’s hands, all pliant and warm and soft. “Please, please, Jaemin, please touch me.”

“Of course,” Jaemin says. “What do you want, baby?” His fingers slide down the tent in Jeno’s jeans, undoing the top button.

“Anything, anything,” Jeno breathes against Jaemin’s mouth, rutting shamelessly into the touch. 

It takes some light maneuvering for Jeno to straddle Jaemin’s lap, but Jaemin hurriedly gets them both undressed as quickly as he can. Jeno wraps a hand around Jaemin’s cock, pumps it experimentally, enjoying the way Jaemin tenses and then shudders. He starts slowly, trying to figure out what Jaemin likes — and then hits it right when he twists his hand against the underside and Jaemin lets out a strangled moan.

It doesn’t take long for Jeno to find a rhythm after that, and when Jeno’s thumb passes over Jaemin’s sensitive slit a second time, he comes with a shudder and a hoarse cry. Jaemin heaves a shaky breath after a moment, kisses Jeno’s temple. Jeno’s still painfully hard, rutting against Jaemin’s hip. “Come on, Jen,” he whispers.

Jeno opens up in Jaemin’s hands like a sunflower to the sun, and his entire body sings under Jaemin’s touch. It takes only a few strokes of Jaemin’s hand before he’s crying out, spilling messily between each other. Jaemin keeps going even after Jeno’s come, milking the last drops of his orgasm until Jeno writhes and whimpers with overstimulation. 

“Oh my god,” Jaemin huffs a breath of laughter. “Jen, sweetheart. Are my handjob skills are that good, babe?” He presses a clean finger under Jeno’s eye and it comes away wet with tears. Jeno’s blush burns across his shoulders and his neck, flushing his skin cherry pink.

“I’ll cry again,” Jeno threatens halfheartedly, even as his cheeks warm.

Jaemin’s smile stretches into a smirk, and Jeno knows immediately that he’s walked himself into a trap. “Maybe I’d like that.”

“Oh my god, you kinky bastard!” Jeno throws a pillow at the general vicinity of Jaemin’s head, and plants his reddened face into the sheets instead.

“Baby, baby,” Jaemin is undeterred by the pillow, only crawling over it to drape himself over Jeno. “Come on, Jen, I won’t make fun of you,” he coaxes Jeno’s pouty face out of the sheets, kissing down the back of his neck. “I think it’s cute that you’re so sensitive,” he says, then punctuates this by blowing a raspberry into the ticklish skin of Jeno’s collarbone. 

Jeno squeals as he tries to squirm out of Jaemin’s grip. Everything is warm, warm, warm but Jaemin is warmer, enveloping Jeno in his arms, making a home out of the empty spaces in Jeno’s ribcage. “Jaemin,” he whines, prodding into Jaemin’s side.

“Yes, sweetheart?” comes, mumbled into the side of his neck.

“Tell me you like me,” Jeno breathes. His voice is small but he doesn’t let it waver. “Please,” he adds, and it comes out far more vulnerable than he wanted.

Jaemin rolls them over so Jeno is pressed beneath him, nowhere to hide. The light hits his hair like a halo, and his lips curl into the smile that Jeno loves, that Jeno had pressed against his own. 

“Ask me again,” he says, one hand cradling Jeno’s cheek.

“Do you like me, Na Jaemin?”

His answering kiss tastes like the morning sun. 

**renjun **[10:36am]  
did it work

**jaemin **[10:37am]  
yes   
thank u injunnie (੭♡ڡ♡)੭‧º·˚

**renjun** [10:37am]  
good

**jaemin** [10:37am]  
i rlly owe u big time (˃̶᷄‧̫ ˂̶᷅๑ )

**renjun **[10:38am]  
passionfruit green tea 65% sugar + choco pearls  
thats my gongcha order   
memorize it cause ur gonna be buying it for me for the rest of ur life  
also

**jaemin** [10:38am]  
?

**renjun** [10:39am]  
if you hurt him i’ll fucking destroy your ass :-)

**jaemin** [10:40am]  
somehow,  
i dont think ur bf wld be happy with that :/

**renjun **[10:45am]  
i actually wouldnt mind  
call me ;)  
\- donghyuck 

**Author's Note:**

> jeno cries like 3x in this fic im so sorry but here is my humble contribution to the disaster bisexual lee jeno community  
  
  
[ccat](http://curiouscat.me/aeneous) ♡


End file.
